


Christmas at Gibraltar

by eternallamppost



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, M/M, just a lil christmas drabble, no sad stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 21:55:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9035777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternallamppost/pseuds/eternallamppost
Summary: Jesse and Hanzo share a Christmas. Emily has Christmas at the Watchpoint. Satya makes presents.





	

Christmas at the Watchpoint was never uneventful. Torbjorn and Reinhardt always had a soft spot for classic Christmas music – Buble, Wham!, the classics. Torbjorn’s percussive workshop provided a backbeat for dozens of soulful Christmas covers, including a few of Lucio’s own remixes. Lucio had the speakers running 24/7, and could be found any number of places – battling Hana in whatever game she happened to put in, soundly defeating McCree in a game of basketball, or even helping Satya put up her beautiful hard-light snowflakes. This was what Lucio had always dreamed of- Overwatch as more than an ideal; Overwatch, the family.

Satya, despite her initial discomforts, was growing fond of the heroes’ boisterous company. They were loud- far too loud, on far too many occasions- but they cared for each other, and Satya was surprised to find she was unaccustomed to this. No one at Vishkar had treated her this way – Vishkar was a way of life, but it was a solitary way. There were no Vishkar Christmas parties, certainly no “Secret Santas.” Satya had fit in at Vishkar- she was an efficient and phenomenal worker, but she did not belong there. She knew the first time the giants shield had come down over her, stopping a brutal shot from a Talon assassin. She knew when Hana sought her out, hours after she’d run from the dining hall mid-panic attack, bringing a cup of coffee and warm words. She knew when the cowboy and the archer came to her after a mission, with praise for her technique and grateful words for her shields.

The dwarf had helped Satya procure extra supplies for her hard-light generators earlier in the month. Most of her technology was understood to be temporary- turrets, teleporters, and shield generators make for easy targets. She hoped that, because they would likely not see combat, the things she was making today would last a little longer. She ran down her mental checklist- a stein for the giant (embossed with the Overwatch logo and the date of Satya and Reinhardt’s first mission together), a controller for Hana (decorated in the star’s own emblem, of course), a set of green and white headphones for Lucio (with removable sound-canceling functions), a set of pins for the cowboy and the archer (brooches- a miniature replica of the cowboy’s belt buckle for the archer, and a miniature Storm Bow for the cowboy), a set of hard-light laser generators for Torbjorn (to augment his turrets- Reinhardt’s idea), a scarf for Zenyatta (a deep, forest green, with a sharp blue pattern running through it), a hat for Mei (and one for Snowball). Satya frowned, realizing again that she was stumped on what to get Lena.

 She wondered if she would see Lena again before Christmas – she had spent most of her spare time in London with Emily. Satya knew McCree was hoping to see both this year, but it was only two days before Christmas and she hadn’t seen them yet. She hoped she would. Lena was a comforting presence to her, and to everyone- a lightning fast ball of holiday spirit. Emily was much subtler, she thought- she carried with her the scent of pine, and a warming, relaxing atmosphere. They balanced each other well.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lena and Emily arrived Christmas Eve, with Winston in tow. They’d had a wonderful dinner the night before, and Emily and Winston both sported new scarves. Emily’s hand held Lena’s white-knuckled: she’d never been to the Watchpoint. It seemed huge from the air – an enormous hangar with a small city attached, packed with vehicles both ground and air. When they landed, Emily stepped out and slowly realized it was a home- it was covered in Christmas decorations- brilliant bright blue crystalline snowflakes that seemed to defy both gravity and the weather. A chicken coop with a mechanical rooster atop sat maybe thirty feet from the main doors (Torbjorn’s handiwork, if she had to guess) and rows of vegetables lined the walls facing the sun.

McCree and Hanzo were first to meet them, McCree’s thumbs in his belt loops, Hanzo’s hands at his sides. Emily shook McCree’s hand, smiling at his jovial manner and general air. Hana and Lucio came out next, both of them hugging Lena before shaking Emily’s hand. They were followed by Reinhardt, Brigitte, Torbjorn, Angela, Fareeha, Mei, and Satya, and with each member Emily understood more and more why Lena had wanted to come so bad. Gibraltar was nothing but smiles- warm faces, warm hands, and laughter. There was the faintest hint of snow on the ground: just enough that Emily’s shoes crunched softly against the thin layer of frost and brought a smile to her face. It was like night and day from London, which had been buried under a torrent of snow since late November.

They sat down for dinner on Christmas Eve, and shared one of the greatest meals Emily had ever had. Torbjorn and Reinhardt had roasted several goose, a chicken, and a duck. (Emily had never had duck, and generally believed it to be a thing only fictional characters ate at Christmas, but loved it.) McCree had made something he called Texas Sheet Cake, which appeared to just be very moist brownies, but was delicious. Hanzo baked McCree a white sponge cake, decorated with strawberries and lilting, gentle waves of frosting. Hanzo did not expect McCree to cry at this, but he did, and pulled Hanzo close in a tight-fisted embrace. There were no oohs or ahhs, no laughter- just quiet joy, and a shared understanding and respect.

Dinner lasted several hours- and after dinner, they played games (This was, without a doubt, Lena’s favorite part.)- holiday charades, 20 questions, even board games. They played well into the night, and stopped when Mei and Zarya were found at the corner of the room asleep in each other’s arms, having drifted off during the middle of a game of Betrayal at the House on the Hill (modified by Hana to be playable with more than ten people, of course).

The next morning was magic, and presents, and tears. Hanzo had frowned at the pin Satya made for him, confused- and then smiled softly when he saw McCree’s. Lucio had written them a song- a song of warmth, and quiet chiming laughter, and so many bells it was impossible to frown during. McCree bought Lena a cover for her chronal accelerator- gold, with his trademark BAMF stamped baudily across it. (“Just figure out a way to sling it across your waist, and we’ll be twins!”)

The morning lasted forever- a long stroll through the most jovial holiday Emily could remember – and she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Why do you love this so much?”

“What? A Christmas Carol?”

            Lena and Emily had joined McCree and Hanzo for McCree’s annual Christmas Carol Marathon, an event spanning more than a hundred years of film and television and several bottles of rum and egg nog. McCree had a hell of a tolerance, and made sure that Lena and Emily didn’t feel pressure to keep up- Emily was a lightweight, and one glass of his “rummy, whiskey, cinnamon nog” had her hiccupping and grinning. Tracer laughed.

            “Yes, A Christmas Carol! I know you love Scrooge, you do this every year, but I never thought to ask why!”

McCree smiled, his voice heavy with whiskey and smiles. “Didn’ use to. Christmas in Deadlock was always a special time. Only time it felt like a place to be, ya know? Only time it felt like home. Everybody gave gifts, even the bosses- most of them were shit, cuz it was shit pay, but everybody tried. Felt good.”

            He looked up at the ceiling a minute, knees spread. Hanzo looked at him, his eyes tracing McCree’s unkempt beard and sharp blue eyes. “Reckon it’s something bout the story. I was nothing when Over-“ he corrected himself, “When Blackwatch found me. When Gabe found me. I was a scrawny lil asshole with a gun.” The left side of his mouth went up, slightly, a crooked grin at a crooked memory of a crooked boy. “Once you get caught in Deadlock, that’s it- they can’t run the risk of you running your mouth, and they haul you off to the Gorge.”

            “Well, I got a second chance that day. Gabe saw something in me, and I got to spend that Christmas here at the Watchpoint. Scrooge got a second chance too- and he made good use of his. Reckon I’d be lucky to do half of what he did.”

            Hanzo frowned at this, his sharp, elegant features downcast. “You have saved lives. All our lives, including mine, on more than one occasion. Ebenezer,” Hanzo gestured abruptly with one hand at the credits of A Muppet Christmas Carol, scrolling across the screen, “saved a puppet frog and celebrated a holiday! You are a hero, Jesse, and should know it by now.”

            Lena smiled at Emily, and McCree smiled at Hanzo, gentle tears in his eyes. “Thank you, honey.” McCree leaned down, his head on Hanzo’s shoulder. Hanzo seemed surprised at this- maybe because of the gesture, maybe because of the company- but let him lay there.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of McCree's Christmas Carol Marathon is from this excellent comic by benevelonterrancy  
> ( http://benevolenterrancy.tumblr.com/post/154756102071/priestessamy-benevolenterrancy-when-your-gf )


End file.
